


September *-*

by selflessbellamy



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer holiday, Bellarke summer loving, Cancer (in family), Diners and stuff, F/M, Fluffiness, Friendship, MY EMOTIONS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 12:36:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2622005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selflessbellamy/pseuds/selflessbellamy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Of all the things I still remember, summer's never looked the same. Years go by, and times just seems to fly, but the memories remain."</p><p>When Clarke Griffin is finishing up her first year in med-school, she bumps into the mysterious asshole Bellamy Blake at a party that her friend Raven dragged her to.<br/>With her father diagnosed with cancer, this could easily end up being the worst summer ever, but God how little did she know that this guy would change everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from Daughtry's song: 'September' *-*

**~ Clarke’s point of view ~**

 

A chilly summer breeze played with strands of their hair, and above them the sky was covered in millions of white, shining stars, which gave away the fact that it was already past 11 p.m. In fact, at this moment, the two girls could have been doing something way more laid-back (that being watching Titanic while sobbing into their Kleenex like they had planned to begin with) than sneaking across the garden of this random dude’s house to reach his random party.

“How do you even know this John Murphy?” Yeah, Clarke had heard about him, many times as well to be honest, because he seemed to be the type of person, who people remembered for some terrifying reason; there were the countless rumors in school following his 19th suspension, the fact that everyone besides his almost as creepy friends, refused to sit anywhere in the range of nine feet away from him - the list was obviously long.

“I nearly kicked him in the nuts once.” Raven replied casually when they walked to the door of what appeared to be an expensive house, which had been rented solitarily for this occasion.

“Of course.” _What else could she say?_ Having known Raven since freshman year was enough to not be surprised by actions like that.

 

* * *

 

Apparently this John Murphy was known for holding big, overrated parties, which Clarke had never been nor invited to, though she had a strong feeling that ninety percent of these people did not have an invitation either.

There were so many people in the room that you could barely walk anywhere, and it was a challenge trying not to get lost among all of the drunk teenagers, most of them dancing up against each other because that little square piece of floor that surrounded them had been invaded by somebody else.

“You’re such a Debbie downer, Clarke!” Raven screamed to be heard above the loud techno music blasting out of the speakers.

“I just don’t want some random, drunk dude to grind up against me! Sorry!” _Too late,_ she thought, mentally face palming as she felt a person bump into her, almost knocking her out of balance.

Turning around, Clarke’s eyes met the frown on the guy’s face like a brick wall before they travelled up to his dark gaze, which even though unreadable, strangely still had sparks. He was nearly a foot taller than her, and was presumably a few years older.

“Watch it, Princess.” _Princess? Where did he get that?_ His rudeness continued to puzzle her, but did not let it show until he had pushed past her, and she just wanted to turn in his direction and shout that it for hell’s sake was him, who had bumped into her. But quite predictably he had disappeared among the mayhem of people.

* * *

 

Waking herself up, she knew that she had to find Raven before getting completely lost here, yet she could be practically anywhere, and this house was massive.

“Need help?” Spinning around at the shockingly familiar voice, Clarke stood face to face with Wells Jaha (the son of the police chief in Santa Monica), who had been her best friend since kindergarten. A part of her just wanted to forget everything and hug him; still there was that bigger part, which constantly reminded her that he had betrayed her, and created this bitter taste in her mouth.

Not taking his offer would be straight up idiotic regardless of their past, even though she for a minute considered it before nodding, the usual fake smile cut on her lips.

“Want a drink?” He teased as if they had suddenly travelled four months back in time, gesturing towards the bar… Or the hammered couple that made out next to it.

“Thanks but no thanks. This place does not need another underage drinker.” Actually, to be honest she could use a drink, but that was definitely not because she wanted to have fun. What she wanted was to forget, simply everything, even her own name, and start totally over.

 

* * *

 

In the hallway upstairs they had to step over several unconscious people, snuggling with vodka or beer bottles. It surprisingly did not take long to find Raven, because naturally they first tried the room from where there came most noise. Opening the door, Clarke laid eyes on a big circle of people around a pool table; they were cheering loud and drunkenly. Deeply frustrated, she made her way to the front row of watchers, so her view to what was happening in the middle was way too good. Raven, the badass man hater was pressed up against a wall, some tall, slim dude towering over her. _What was he doing?_ It only took a single, hopeless look from her for Wells to speak up:

“Murphy! If you dare to touch her I will call the police!” _So that nasty guy basically attacking her drunk best friend was John Murphy. This was the first time she had actually seen him, and the impression was far from nice._

Despite the bad choice of words, Wells appeared to be threatening enough to earn everyone’s attention as he impulsively stepped into the middle of the circle, facing Murphy straight away.

“Do you seriously think that calling your daddy will end anything? Guess what? This is my party, my rules! Get it? I can do whatever the hell I want!” Murphy shouted, gathering support from the crowd like a lame bully in high school movies. Luckily, Wells was unaffected; pulling a card that he probably shouldn’t have given the power division here: “And do you seriously think that this will keep you from ending up in a prison cell?” Following that, Wells earned a punch and a violent push from Murphy; the anger was roaming within his eyes, his pale complexion looking even more ghostly.

“No!” Clarke shouted desperately as Wells returned the punch, hard. Before getting over there, that dark-haired idiot, who had bumped into her previously, grabbed Murphy, pulling him away with unexpected force: “Enough!” Meanwhile, Clarke was trying to calm both Wells’s temper and a shaking Raven at the other end of the room, for one second catching the guy’s eye - “Bellamy! Let me go!” - Bellamy’s eye, but it was blazed.

“Touch my best friend again, and I’ll make sure you regret it.” By _best friend_ she would have normally meant Wells, but she feared that that title did not belong to him anymore.

“Don’t listen to her, Murphy. She’s just too damn privileged to know about anything except the perfect world she lives in.” Bellamy said, staring at her with cold eyes, and all Clarke wanted to do was slap him so hard that he would be able to feel the amount of pain she felt right now, because of him. _How could a stranger judge like that?_ Turning away her face, Clarke felt her lower lip wobble, tears burningly filling up her eyes. She hoped no one could see, but Wells certainly did, and before he started asking any questions where everybody could hear them, Clarke quickly dragged him out of the room.

* * *

 

**_~ Bellamy’s point of view ~_ **

****

Rushing out behind them, Bellamy wanted to tell them to piss off, since no one wished to deal with a revenge-plagued Murphy for the rest of the night… Instead, he saw the two standing beside the staircase, and even though they were somewhat far away, every shaking word that she said was to be heard: “… My dad has freaking cancer, Wells! And don’t bother to pretend like you actually know what it feels like, because I can’t do this pity thing from everyone anymore. I’m done. Would you please tell Raven that I left early due to studying?”

Time froze as she walked past Bellamy, not even noticing him with her head held low. Without being able to prevent it, guilt crept into his limbs, tightening his throat.

_His mother’s death came back all over again. And he understood. He understood her._


	2. Chapter 2

**~  Clarke’s POV  ~**

Blending dark blue with rose red, she took yet another glance at the sky, making sure that the color on her canvas was a close match. Sitting at the edge of the dock, you could feel the breeze way more, smell the saltwater and enjoy the stunning view that was Santa Monica Pier at night. For the first time in a while, she felt free, closing her eyes briefly to take in the peaceful surroundings.

To be honest, Clarke felt extremely content in her own world at the moment, ignoring chatter from the people behind her, but it was certainly not _perfect_ like that arrogant Bellamy-jerk had stated the day before - Although she was fully aware of how stupid it was to mind him, the words refused to be forgotten; they simply hung in there, constantly reminding her of sickness, hospitals and emptiness.

“Princess?” _Why did the person she was thinking about always have to appear as if she needed them to be there?_ Despite only having heard it a few times before, his voice was strangely remarkable: always clear, and as serious as his face, which still resembled a brick wall. But those eyes were a continuous mystery.

“My name is Clarke if you care about knowing that. And I would appreciate to be left alone, especially I would enjoy being excluded from idiots today.” Trying to concentrate on something else than his stare nearly cutting through the back of her neck, she muttered the reply, turning her attention to the paintbrush in her hand.

Apparently Bellamy did not accept being rejected like that, hurrying to say: “Look, I’m sorry about yesterday-“ However the apology seemed too typical for Clarke to take it seriously, and to begin with, she had to fight an urge to laugh at him.

“It’s not like I’m not used to ignorant people judging me by now. You’re nothing but another one of them. Please leave.”

“My mother. She passed away from breast cancer, when I was seven. I’m not going to pretend I don’t know what it feels like,” At that, Clarke was hit by utter surprise, because that was a neat choice of words, and she quickly realized the he - of all damn people - had heard her talk to Wells. “I made a mistake judging you.” was the final continuation, followed by a small sigh.

As she stood up, frowning and faced him, at an instant it was like they reflected each other, looking equally stubborn, which told Clarke that this had to be another time, where she had to unwillingly forgive someone.

“You have to come up with a better apology than that.” Picking up her drawing before it landed in the water beneath them, she secretly waited on a reply.

“What about some frozen yogurt?” This was the first time a smile grew on his lips, teasing with the temptation of some cold deliciousness in the summer heat.

 

* * *

 

She chose her usual chocolate flavor with strawberry and blueberry as toping, but also here, the mystery of Bellamy made no exception; the guy freaking chose to mix the mango flavor with chocolate/mint chips and blueberries.

“What? It tastes good.” was his explanation, when he finally noticed her staring at the odd combination.

“No wonder.”

It was a little too clear that her sassy comment surprised him: the blue plastic spoon in his frozen yogurt hovering slightly on its way to his mouth.

 

* * *

 

“I’m sorry about your mother.” Clarke chose to break the long-time silence between them, not because it necessarily bothered her; in fact eating the last of her chocolate froyo while admiring the fading colors of the horizon behind the Ferris wheel, was nice. Just straight up nice.

Noticing the way he stirred in his empty plastic coffee cup using the lovely blue spoon, she feared that she might have gotten too close, mentioning something, which he probably had never planned to tell her in the first place.

“It happened a long time ago. All I want is to move on and forget.” She now became aware that she had been staring at him too long, not knowing exactly what she was staring at, but he caught her eyes as they briefly scanned his face: a frown made him look older than he appeared to be. Embarrassed, she adverted her eyes to the sky again, which had darkened now. It was starless.

“Why do you wanna do that? Forget, I mean.” Having asked the personal question, Clarke had a feeling that it would be easier to look at him. A sea-blue gaze met a dark brown once more, the eye contact for a moment as deep as the question, yet broken by the ringing cell-phone in her pocket.

 

* * *

 

 

**~ Bellamy’s POV** ~

Picking it up in a hurry, she barely had time to send him an apologetic glare. Then, she walked a few feet away, probably not knowing that he could still hear some of the things she said. At first, he ignored her private conversation, however when her voice started to change tone, and the pauses turned longer and longer between her replies, the words came out clearer:

“… What do you mean? … How bad? … No, no. I’m sorry, Mom. I’ll be right there.” Bellamy furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, witnessing how she put the phone back in her pocket too slowly, then how in the matter of seconds, her face went pale, staring blankly ahead until shaking it off like anyone in the right mind would have done.

“I have to go-“ The new sort of high-pitch to her voice made it obvious that she was trying very hard to conceal any emotion, which would have perhaps shown, “But thanks.” Clarke ended, and Bellamy felt powerlessness begin to pulse through his veins, as he could do nothing but watch her spin around, taking off. On one hand he was relieved that he did not get to see her break, even though he knew that it was a selfish thought, however in spite of everything, that was still what he was, deep down; an arrogant jackass.

That did not keep something inside him from wanting to run after her, because of what had happened when his mother died.

Swallowing the bitter memory along with the lump in his throat, Bellamy reminded himself that he did not know this girl… _The princess._

 


End file.
